I'm comin' over
by once anon a time
Summary: Little ficlet inspired by (and title from) Chris Young's 'I'm Comin' Over'.


Stood in the middle of fancy gala her parents were throwing Clarke couldn't feel more alone. So much had changed since last years dinner that she simply wasn't the same person she used to be. She cared for more than just superficial concerns, she did more than just shopping and she has real problems. She was heartbroken and she had no one to blame but herself. This wasn't enough for her; the pretty dresses, the dancing, the drinking and the flirting. All she wanted was him. It wasn't really just a thought that popped into her head it was all encompassing feeling that took over her. At once she knew it to be fundamentally and obviously true. She had been stupid to let other petty little concerns get in the way of that. He came first and they could face anything else together.

She turned to a waiter as they passed and handed him her full glass of champagne beaming as she hurried away. She grabbed a sweater absentmindedly left behind on the cloakroom counter and ran out the door as fast as her five inch heels would take her. She knew where he would be; it was a Sunday night and it was his only night off. She waited impatiently as the valet returned her car and hopped in hurriedly thrusting a fifty dollar bill in the guy's hand. The journey was a blur as a nervous sense of excitement took over her. She was sure there were some red lights she flew through but she didn't care; all she wanted to do was get to him. It wasn't over for her and if there was even a tiny chance that the fire still burned for him as well then she had to find out.

As she stood in front of his front door she realised she hadn't paused to think if he would even let her in. She almost didn't knock but having come so far she had to tell him, even if he turned her away.

He opened the door and froze. She could see his jaw drop and she figured she must be quite a sight in a couture ball gown and a baggy knit sweater her hair slightly bedraggled from the rain. He hadn't moved his arm from the door frame to let her in and she could see him set his jaw and an icy steel glaze form across his eyes.

"What do you want?"

Clarke paused a moment wondering how to put it into words. Bellamy had been everything to her and she had got caught up in her mother's world and let him slip away. He helped her be the person she wanted to be. He didn't try and change her or tell her who she should be. He accepted her for who she was; flaws and all. He was good and kind and generous and smart and so much more than poor. She didn't care if her parent's cut her off, she could live with him and his sister and get a real job. It wouldn't matter if she had him.

"You?"

All she got was an eyebrow raised into dark curls which she figured was better than a door slammed in her face. She ached to run her fingers through his hair and kiss away his frown. She missed the heat of his touch and the light of his smile. She missed him so much it was like there was a part of her that was gone and it caused a physical pain in her heart that almost took her breath away.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Everything."

He still hadn't moved and his face was still cold and unreadable. She felt slightly foolish but she knew the only way to get through to him would be to bare her soul. So she continued.

"I'm sorry that I ended things with you, that was a mistake. I'm sorry that I made you feel unworthy or inferior or that I let my family and friends treat you like that because you aren't. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I loved you because it's been true for a long time and I know you weren't ready to say it back but you deserved to hear it. I'm sorry I walked away and didn't fight for you when things got hard."

She was crying now and choking back a sob she struggled to get her words out. She hung her head as she tried to calm herself but before she knew it she felt a familiar pair of strong arms encircle her. She clung to him desperately, revelling in his strength, burying her head in his chest and inhaling his familiar scent. She had missed the feeling of being in his arms; it felt like home. He helped her inside awkwardly as she refused to let go and sat them both down on the sofa.

He lifted her head up with two fingers under her chin and blinking away the blur of tears she met his eyes. The coldness had thawed and behind she saw the familiar intensity she had missed.

"I love you too."

They didn't say much after that but it was enough.


End file.
